The truth in a thousand lies
Walking away from Edward and Lacci took noticeable effort, as if he were swimming against the tide. Thomas hauled himself into the rear of the Jeep and shoved the bottle of tequila into the cup holder. He had no intention of drinking in his current state, but it was what people expected from him and the proper forms had to be followed. Taking a deep breath, Thomas closed his eyes and sank into himself, shuffling through the memories of the past few days in search of some hint, some clue as to how the Hunger had taken control so easily.
The hunter he’d killed to escape. Alice and the soaring freedom of the Hunger’s music. Lacci and the music again. The fear and cage bars. Vlad and Edward and himself mimicking the Hunger’s skill. Fear again. Dru and the madness and the Hunger and the world breaking. Humans and their desires naked on their faces as he took them. Pain and anger and more pain. Edward’s face furious and hurting.
They were ripe for the taking. You were born for this. We are the wolf among sheep, the hunter. We are what we are. You cannot fight against the rising tide forever. Take whatever comfort you wish in the fact that you are gifting them with joy and pleasure before we take them screaming and pleading, every fiber in their bodies knowing and begging.
The echoing voice of the deepest darkest voids within him made Thomas’ entire body stiffen, his hands clenching involuntarily. At once the sweet siren call of promise and life and the bitter poison that reminded him how truly inhuman he was, the Hunger spoke. ‘You and I are not one,’ Thomas insisted. ‘I am in control of my body, of my soul, of my mind. You are an irritating houseguest whom I cannot evict due to an unlucky circumstance of blood.’
And you wonder why I am so eager to take advantage when one comes my way? Why do you think you lose control? Because you insist on keeping me in a cage like some ignorant savage beast. I break the bars you construct because I crave freedom. But it doesn’t have to be so. We do not have to be entities at odds. Accept that we are two sides of the same coin, light and dark. Accept that we are one and there will be no need to fight us as you do. It is tiring, so tiring. We can both feel it, can’t we?
Thomas’ hands clenched tighter, nails digging shallow crescents into his skin. The Hunger was right about that, that the constant need to keep it contained, keep it boxed up into its own little corner in his head was a drain Thomas had always lived with, but taken as course that what weakened him also weakened the demon inside. Still, it was not something he was willing to admit, lest of all to the corruption in his soul. ‘You think you can talk your way out?’ he asked it. ‘You think just dangling words and playing the injured card will let me give you free reign? Because I remember what giving you free reign entails. The careless uses of power, the cold cruel detachment of feeding.’
And so you sit here alone and Hungry, cut and unhealed because you are afraid of what could happen? We are stronger together than we are at war. I am more than you give me credit for. What was it that allowed you into a madwoman’s mind? To find that corruption, that danger that had leashed her madness like some rabid pet? I gave you that power and you wish me to suffer the same fate? What allowed you to give a soul tortured by the future a shining moment of bliss, of silence? I am not the monster you pretend me to be. I am the darker part of you, one you can utilize as deftly as you use your hands, not some blight upon your soul and your conscience.
Memories of Dru and Alice, of being able to discover what was wrong, of easing pain and bringing pleasure and silence came to mind. Memories of Justine, of earlier in their relationship, when a touch siphoned off the intensity that threatened to overwhelm her, gave her balance and allowed her to enjoy life. A quiet fear wrapped around Thomas’ heart and he sat silent.
No, I regret the loss of the doe, of the one you called Justine. She was beauty and light incarnate, our wine, our sweet intoxicant. If we had been working together, perhaps we would not have taken as much. I do notwant to be caged, but neither do I want unbridled freedom. Left to my own devices I am nothing more than ravenous hunger. You are the guiding hand that determines what we do. Collar me if it reassures you of my intentions. A collar is infinitely more preferable than a cage, and you have my word of honour that whatever we do, it will be of your will.
The Hunger, freely binding itself with its word. The fear that had crept around Thomas’ heart eased to a simple wariness. ‘You will bind yourself with your word to obey my will?’ he asked. As much as he hated to admit it, Thomas knew that some of what the Hunger said was true, that it was a part of himself as much as his limbs. And it was tiring to fight it, to slam it shut in its cage so often. ‘If you give your word to obey, I will not cage you.’
You have my word.
And in his mind, Thomas wove a silver collar from the memories of his mother, of Harry, of Lacrimosa and Drusilla and Edward, building it all over a core of his love for Justine. If the Hunger broke through everything else, Justine would hold it at bay. He imagined locking it into place, then dropping the mental bars. The Hunger hummed its pleasure at freedom and sank into him. There was no absence of a presence in his mind, or a sudden emergence of another. There was simply a lack of conflict, a calm shadow lurking in the corners where there had before been a raving beast. Thomas opened his eyes, and they gleamed dark silver in the moonlight.
Feed. We will know when to stop. You will not lose control.
The hunter he’d killed to escape. Alice and the soaring freedom of the Hunger’s music. Lacci and the music again. The fear and cage bars. Vlad and Edward and himself mimicking the Hunger’s skill. Fear again. Dru and the madness and the Hunger and the world breaking. Humans and their desires naked on their faces as he took them. Pain and anger and more pain. Edward’s face furious and hurting.
They were ripe for the taking. You were born for this. We are the wolf among sheep, the hunter. We are what we are. You cannot fight against the rising tide forever. Take whatever comfort you wish in the fact that you are gifting them with joy and pleasure before we take them screaming and pleading, every fiber in their bodies knowing and begging.
The echoing voice of the deepest darkest voids within him made Thomas’ entire body stiffen, his hands clenching involuntarily. At once the sweet siren call of promise and life and the bitter poison that reminded him how truly inhuman he was, the Hunger spoke. ‘You and I are not one,’ Thomas insisted. ‘I am in control of my body, of my soul, of my mind. You are an irritating houseguest whom I cannot evict due to an unlucky circumstance of blood.’
And you wonder why I am so eager to take advantage when one comes my way? Why do you think you lose control? Because you insist on keeping me in a cage like some ignorant savage beast. I break the bars you construct because I crave freedom. But it doesn’t have to be so. We do not have to be entities at odds. Accept that we are two sides of the same coin, light and dark. Accept that we are one and there will be no need to fight us as you do. It is tiring, so tiring. We can both feel it, can’t we?
Thomas’ hands clenched tighter, nails digging shallow crescents into his skin. The Hunger was right about that, that the constant need to keep it contained, keep it boxed up into its own little corner in his head was a drain Thomas had always lived with, but taken as course that what weakened him also weakened the demon inside. Still, it was not something he was willing to admit, lest of all to the corruption in his soul. ‘You think you can talk your way out?’ he asked it. ‘You think just dangling words and playing the injured card will let me give you free reign? Because I remember what giving you free reign entails. The careless uses of power, the cold cruel detachment of feeding.’
And so you sit here alone and Hungry, cut and unhealed because you are afraid of what could happen? We are stronger together than we are at war. I am more than you give me credit for. What was it that allowed you into a madwoman’s mind? To find that corruption, that danger that had leashed her madness like some rabid pet? I gave you that power and you wish me to suffer the same fate? What allowed you to give a soul tortured by the future a shining moment of bliss, of silence? I am not the monster you pretend me to be. I am the darker part of you, one you can utilize as deftly as you use your hands, not some blight upon your soul and your conscience.
Memories of Dru and Alice, of being able to discover what was wrong, of easing pain and bringing pleasure and silence came to mind. Memories of Justine, of earlier in their relationship, when a touch siphoned off the intensity that threatened to overwhelm her, gave her balance and allowed her to enjoy life. A quiet fear wrapped around Thomas’ heart and he sat silent.
No, I regret the loss of the doe, of the one you called Justine. She was beauty and light incarnate, our wine, our sweet intoxicant. If we had been working together, perhaps we would not have taken as much. I do notwant to be caged, but neither do I want unbridled freedom. Left to my own devices I am nothing more than ravenous hunger. You are the guiding hand that determines what we do. Collar me if it reassures you of my intentions. A collar is infinitely more preferable than a cage, and you have my word of honour that whatever we do, it will be of your will.
The Hunger, freely binding itself with its word. The fear that had crept around Thomas’ heart eased to a simple wariness. ‘You will bind yourself with your word to obey my will?’ he asked. As much as he hated to admit it, Thomas knew that some of what the Hunger said was true, that it was a part of himself as much as his limbs. And it was tiring to fight it, to slam it shut in its cage so often. ‘If you give your word to obey, I will not cage you.’
You have my word.
And in his mind, Thomas wove a silver collar from the memories of his mother, of Harry, of Lacrimosa and Drusilla and Edward, building it all over a core of his love for Justine. If the Hunger broke through everything else, Justine would hold it at bay. He imagined locking it into place, then dropping the mental bars. The Hunger hummed its pleasure at freedom and sank into him. There was no absence of a presence in his mind, or a sudden emergence of another. There was simply a lack of conflict, a calm shadow lurking in the corners where there had before been a raving beast. Thomas opened his eyes, and they gleamed dark silver in the moonlight.
Feed. We will know when to stop. You will not lose control.